


hypothermia

by punk_rock_yuppie



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Gen, No Dialogue, Unhappy Ending, no slash/only if you squint and turn your head
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-17
Updated: 2017-02-17
Packaged: 2018-09-25 02:11:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9797903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punk_rock_yuppie/pseuds/punk_rock_yuppie
Summary: “Nothing burns like the cold. But only for a while. Then it gets inside you and starts to fill you up, and after a while you don't have the strength to fight it.” --George R. R. Martin





	

**Author's Note:**

> written for the anon who prompted jarchie+hypothermia. this isn't very slash-y, if at all; it mostly focuses on how archie and jughead's friendship fell apart. whenever i write them, though, i always write it with the idea of lingering romantic feelings so... could be interpreted as slash-y, i suppose.
> 
> ANYWHO. enjoy!

It starts with little things.

Things like Archie getting distracted when they’re hanging out; his mind wanders all the time, that’s nothing new, but this is different. He’s not thinking idly, head full of hot air in a way Jughead has always found endearing. No, his mind is somewhere else, and his body might as well be too. Archie doesn’t put his heart into the games, or the conversations. He picks at the food they make and his fingers constantly fidget toward his pocket—toward his phone.

Things like Archie not texting back; which, really, is minor. The most minor. It’s understandable and reasonable and it isn’t as though Jughead ever considered himself the only person in Archie’s life. Archie has other people to talk to, other things to do. He’s hardly under an obligation to text Jughead back every single time. Though, when Archie drops off the face of the earth in the middle of a conversation… that gets old fast. And when Archie goes a week without replying, that gets old too.

Things like Archie bailing on him; for the first couple weeks, he always does it a few days in advance. It’s a courtesy that’s appreciated, even if it still irks Jughead. It’s a courtesy that Jughead can stomach because at least then he can rework his plans, Archie’s promise of _“next time, dude, I swear”_ ringing in his ears. After a while a few days’ notice turns into two days, one day, a couple hours—sometimes, even, just a few minutes. Texts (the only texts Jughead ever gets anymore) coming in fifteen, ten, five minutes before their scheduled plans. All of them written the same, hurried way. _“Sorry, can’t make it. Next time, promise.”_

It starts with a million little things, and culminates in one giant mess.

 

When Archie stumbles into Pop’s on the night of the winter formal, Jughead’s heart doesn’t hammer in his chest. A flush doesn’t burn his skin and his mind doesn’t sudden light up with thoughts. No, Jughead feels curiously empty inside. Hollow, like a carved-out shell. His fingers twitch across the keys and he’s startled to realize how easy it is to slip back into writing even with Archie hovering nearby. He looks like a kicked puppy, but the sight doesn’t pull at Jughead’s heartstrings. Far from it.

He lets Archie sit across from him, but doesn’t feel any blooming warmth or ache of nostalgia. He doesn’t feel that same urge to reach out to his best friend in times of need. When their knees bump under the table, Archie inhales sharply and Jughead forgets it happened moments later. When Archie leaves, Jughead’s bitter advice hanging over his head, the world feels the same. It doesn’t feel smaller or colder or harsher. It feels just as plain and uninteresting as before.

 

Jughead stopped fighting the feeling a long time ago. He stopped fighting it the moment six-thirty am rolled around and Archie was nowhere to be found the morning of their road trip. He stopped fighting it when he didn’t even get a text, or an apology, or _anything_. He stopped fighting it when the sun set on that same day, a warm and golden close to the fourth of July, peppered with fireworks. He stopped fighting it when Archie stopped talking to him outright—no conversation, not even a huge fight. Just radio silence leading into the end of their friendship with the worst kind of grace.


End file.
